


Banana Flambé : Brian and Ethan

by chris_edward (hwshipper)



Series: The Chris 'Verse [11]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Food, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-12
Updated: 2009-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwshipper/pseuds/chris_edward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Excerpt</strong>: <em>As they talked, Ethan flashed smiles, batted eyelashes, flicked his hair back a number of times and nudged Brian's foot under the table with his own. </em><br/><strong>Summary</strong>: Brian and Ethan meet & get together. Set some five years before <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/72915">The Life of Brian</a>. Chris appears in chapters 2-4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Banana Flambé

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta**: [](http://srsly-yes.livejournal.com/profile)[**srsly_yes**](http://srsly-yes.livejournal.com/) brilliant again

Ethan set the bottle of Grand Marnier down, struck a match with a theatrical flourish, and the banana flambé burst into flame. The people at the table whooped with enthusiasm. Ethan shook his head modestly then stepped back to admire his handiwork. He allowed himself to bask briefly in applause before moving to serve the dessert, then stepped back out of the limelight.

He started to wheel the cart back towards the kitchen, looking across the restaurant. It was a busy evening, every table full, lots of heads down, eating. Ethan glanced across to the bar, seeking a familiar face--and there he was. The guy with the heavy stubble, almost a beard really, and the near-invisible eyeglasses.

Ethan had seen him a lot recently; the guy always sat so he could see through the viewing window into the kitchen. Sensing admiration, Ethan had begun showing off for his benefit; letting the fry pans flame high, flipping crêpes with a flourish, tossing the odd kitchen utensil up behind his back and catching it in the manner of a cocktail bartender.

He'd never been out on the restaurant floor when his admirer was here before. Ethan hesitated a fraction, then veered a little off course from the route to the kitchen, towards the bar.

"Hey," he said casually, pausing the cart next to the stubbled guy. "Enjoy the show?"

"Hey," the guy said. His voice was low and gentle. "It was great. What were you making?"

"Banana flambé, with extra cinnamon." Ethan grinned, and tossed his head a little, even though his blond locks were tied back under his chef's hat. "I always like doing flambé tableside."

Close-up, Ethan could see his admirer had green eyes. Pale green with hazel flecks, very pretty actually, if a little serious. There were dark shadows beneath those eyes; Ethan suspected they came from working the night away rather than partying, somehow. He guessed the guy was late twenties, maybe thirty, same age as Ethan himself. Perhaps a bit younger.

The guy smiled back, showing straight white teeth. He had a nice smile, which transformed the rather solemn bearded look into something more humorous. "It looks like fun. I thought the girl in the red top was going to set fire to her sleeve."

"I had a guy lean too close to my Crêpe Suzette once, and his tie went right up." Ethan snorted a little at the memory. "It was hilarious, actually."

His companion's mouth twitched upwards. "Did he sue?"

"Naw. His fault for wearing a cheap crappy flammable synthetic tie. I'm Ethan, by the way."

"Brian." They shook hands; Brian's grip was firm and cool.

"I have to get back to work." Ethan cast a glance in the direction of the window through to the kitchen. He knew the head chef would be watching from the other side. "But if you wanted to hang around until we close, perhaps we could go get a drink?"

Brian dipped his eyes and his tone was diffident. "I could hang around."

_Shy_, Ethan thought, and was glad he'd made the first move.

 

* * *

  
Midnight came. Ethan started clearing up as early as possible before the restaurant closed, ready to change and be out as soon as he could. He splashed water on his face and slicked back his shoulder length blond hair, studying himself critically in the mirror.

Brian was waiting outside, and they managed to get a quiet corner table at the all-night basement bar around the corner. Brian went to get drinks, and Ethan leaned back in his seat and watched Brian lean forward to speak to the bartender.

Hmm, that was a mighty fine ass. Brian was wearing a casual shirt with rolled up sleeves, and snug black jeans. Ethan realized he'd never really gotten a good view of Brian through the restaurant kitchen window; he'd just had the impression of the specs and the stubble. Now he was able to get a proper look, he could see that Brian was tall, a little over six feet, and..._fit_, no denying it. Strong arms and legs; the guy must play some kind of sport.

Over a beer, Ethan found out that Brian was a trial lawyer. "You mean you're in a courtroom arguing cases and stuff?"

"Some of the time. When I'm not preparing for cases, talking to witnesses, doing research, paperwork and so on. Most things get settled out of court, actually. But when it doesn't...yeah, I'm there."

"That is so cool." Ethan thought of lawyers on TV and in movies, getting guilty-as-hell clients off the hook through guile and cunning and powerful oratory. "What kind of cases? Do you defend murderers?"

Brian laughed. "No, my firm does civil law. We get a lot of corporate clients being sued by people for negligence, medical misdemeanors, consumer claims, that kind of thing. People who get their ties set on fire in restaurants, for example. It's always interesting. I've been with The Firm since I finished law school, it's a good place to work."

Ethan thought Brian was a little geeky, but in a cute kind of way. His face became animated when he talked about his work, and enthusiasm shone through his voice and his hand gestures. It was infectious.

"And what do you do when you're not working, Brian?" Ethan asked.

"Not much. I work a lot." Brian was self-deprecating. "Uh, I like to play baseball up in Central Park in the summer. So, Ethan, how did you become a chef?"

Ethan wasn't sorry to be given an opportunity to talk about himself. "I always loved cooking. I worked as a food prep assistant part-time when I was in high school, loved it, thought I could do it full-time. So I went to culinary academy here in New York." Ethan was proud. "Got my degree, did an internship, worked in a few places, then got my current job as a line chef."

"It looks very glamorous, watching you with those flaming pans," Brian remarked.

"Fucking hard work though." Ethan shook his head. "On your feet the whole time, busy, stressful. And the hours--I work from four to midnight, or to one AM on Friday and Saturday. No fucking good for your social life. Always working weekends, holidays..." He grinned. "I love it. I wouldn't do anything else."

"I understand," Brian said with sincerity.

They chatted a little more. Ethan found Brian was reticent talking about his personal life. He mentioned work colleagues, a sister in New Jersey, and that was about it. Ethan guessed that Brian really didn't have much of a social life outside work. He didn't ask about boyfriends (not wanting to get quizzed on that himself, not right now), but decided he'd be surprised if Brian had had any significant relationships since law school. Maybe even before that.

As they talked, Ethan flashed smiles, batted eyelashes, flicked his hair back a number of times and nudged Brian's foot under the table with his own. Brian didn't move his foot away, and returned smiles and bashful looks, but didn't give too much back otherwise.

_Interested but shy_, Ethan decided. Or perhaps interested but cautious. In either case, suggesting they go out back and fuck was not the way to go here...

They left to go home after a second drink, Brian remarking that it was a work night. They strolled together companionably for a couple of blocks until Brian paused at a tall apartment building. "This is me."

"Nice." Ethan looked up and down, genuinely impressed at the location and the building. He supposed Brian must be pretty well off, lawyers were, weren't they?

"I had a good time." Brian sounded a trifle awkward. "Maybe we could do it again."

"Yeah. Well, you know where I work," Ethan said lightly.

The road was dark outside the pools of light from street lamps, and quiet. Ethan took a step forward to stand closer to Brian. Brian held back for a second, then moved forward himself, and their mouths met.

_Nice_. Ethan immediately liked the way Brian kissed. Very nice soft lips, just a hint of tongue there, and oh, yeah, kissing hungrily now. Taste of beer, mints and a decent cologne Ethan vaguely recognized but couldn't place. He smelled fresh scents in Brian's hair; seaweed, eucalyptus.

Ethan was really _very _eager to take things forward, and ordinarily wouldn't have hesitated to suggest they go inside and carry on someplace more comfortable. But he sensed Brian would demur. And Ethan wanted this enough to decide there was no point risking scaring him off. Why not leave the guy wanting more? Tomorrow was only a day away, after all.

So he stepped back, said, "Goodnight, Brian," and walked away.

He couldn't resist glancing back after twenty paces, and was pleased to see Brian still standing on the sidewalk, watching him go.

* * *

  
The next evening Ethan could have kicked himself, because Brian didn't come back. Damn it all to hell! What had he done wrong? He should have just grabbed the guy and hauled him up to that swank apartment while he'd had half a chance.

And then, at a quarter to midnight with the restaurant about to close, there he was, looking ruffled and out of breath. Ethan's heart leaped and he waved through the window. Brian waved back, and settled at the bar to wait.

Ethan practically dived out of the kitchen, stripping off his chef's attire with more than usual haste, not caring for the moment if he looked desperate. How _dare_ Brian keep him waiting like that? Honestly!

"I can't believe you only just showed!" Ethan chided Brian when he finally made it out.

"I couldn't get out of work any earlier." Brian was sheepish.

"They make you work to midnight in your law firm?"

"When one of the partners gives you a case he was leading on tomorrow because he's got the flu, and you've got less than twenty-four hours to bone up on it... yeah, you have to work 'til midnight." Brian spread out his hands in apology. "Anyway, it doesn't make any difference, you'd have had to work until now, right?"

"Well, yeah." Ethan was still aggrieved; that was not the point! "But I was _waiting _for you."

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you."

Now that was more like it. Ethan beamed, mollified. "Let's go clubbing."

Brian laughed. "When I said this case is tomorrow, I mean _today _as it's now past midnight. I have to be back at the office in a few hours. Let me make it up to you after this case is over--it should only take a couple of days. Look, I haven't eaten--could we go get some food?"

Ethan moaned a bit more, just to make the point, but didn't really mind. They went to a noodle bar and Brian devoured a bowl of chicken yaki soba, talking about his case between mouthfuls. Ethan sat and watched Brian suck long brown noodles up through full, generous lips.

"Can you really win a case with less than a day to prepare?" Ethan asked at one point.

Brian's green eyes sparkled behind his spectacles. "I can win a case with an _hour _to prepare. So long as I've got an associate who knows the facts sitting next to me."

They parted outside on the sidewalk afterwards, Brian apologizing and saying he really did have to go home and get some sleep. It was busy and they didn't dare kiss, but Ethan looked back after twenty paces again, just in time to see Brian looking back at him.

* * *

  
The next day, Ethan got up in the early afternoon and after a light lunch, went off to find the New York City Civil Court. He spent a bit of time wandering in and out of courtrooms before he found the case he was looking for.

Brian was sitting right at the front, conferring with a dark-haired women. He was wearing a well-cut suit that looked custom-made, a light blue shirt and a rather nice silk tie, dark blue with a silver pattern. Ethan almost never wore suits himself and admired the look on Brian. The guy was just as fuckable in smart as casual clothes.

Ethan sat at the back of the public gallery and listened for a while to some petty tedious legal argument from the prosecution. Some kind of accident, someone dumb enough to have tripped over a step in a shop, now suing for damages because there wasn't a sign saying 'Watch Your Step'. God, this law shit was _boring_. How could anyone spend their lives doing this?

And then Brian stood up to cross-examine. "Mrs Smith. Do you usually wear glasses, by any chance?"

She looked surprised, then cautious. "Yes. Sometimes."

"Are you short-sighted, or far-sighted?"

"Short-sighted."

"Were you wearing your glasses on the day you fell over the step?"

"No," she muttered, and it was as if he'd switched a light on and illuminated the whole court. Ethan leaned forward in his seat, entranced; he noticed the jury raising eyebrows too.

Brian spent the next fifteen minutes establishing that the woman had been to the shop many times before, must have known the step was there, did in fact almost always wear glasses, and without them would not have been able to see a 'Watch Your Step' sign even if one had existed. He was clear and powerful, dogged and fair; he didn't badger her, but pressed with logical questions, and she tied herself up in knots. Ethan could see the jury took to him, and by the time Brian turned away and said, "No further questions," to the judge, Ethan was smitten too.

The judge adjourned proceedings; people stood up and started milling around. Brian stood up, stretched his arms high, looked around and spotted Ethan at the back. Ethan waved, and was overjoyed when Brian spoke briefly to his colleague, then made his way to the back of the room.

"What are you doing here?" Brian was smiling.

"I figured you'd watched me working long enough. I should come watch you," Ethan said, and turned wide eyes on Brian. "That was fucking awesome! How did you know she wore glasses?"

"I saw she had a red mark on her nose." Brian tapped the bridge of his own spectacles. "Figured if she wears them enough to get a mark, it's enough to cast reasonable doubt on her eyesight."

"So what happens now?" Ethan asked excitedly.

Brian shrugged. "We carry on tomorrow. I go back to the office with my associate and we figure out how to play it from here."

"It was really cool to hear you busting her ass. I could've listened forever." Ethan dropped his voice and pushed back his hair. "You've given me a serious hard-on."

He was delighted to see Brian blush beneath his stubble, and mutter,_ "Ethan!"_

"See you tonight?" Ethan muttered back, winked, and walked away. This time he didn't look back.

* * *

  
Ethan had been at work a couple of hours that evening when the maître d' stuck his head round the kitchen door and said, "Ethan? Friend of yours called Brian just made a reservation, table for six, eleven o'clock. Said to tell you it's a work celebration."

A work celebration? Had the case concluded so quickly after all? Ethan felt excitement build in his veins; fucking A!

He was watching through the window at eleven when Brian arrived, still in the clothes he'd been wearing in court, and with a group of people also in business suits; three men, two women. Brian beamed broadly when he saw Ethan, and gave a thumbs up sign.

Ethan kept an eye on what had been ordered. Three of them wanted steak, and Ethan made sure they were cooked exactly as required. It was late and the order was one of the last of the night; Ethan waited until he was sure he was no longer needed, then zipped out of the kitchen to get changed and join the party in the restaurant.

Brian turned and smiled as Ethan approached. Ethan would have liked to greet Brian with a kiss, but figured discretion was the better part of valor. Hell, he didn't even know if Brian was out at work or not; a big old law firm might not have any tolerance for that kind of thing. So Ethan opted not to touch Brian at all, simply pulling a chair up to the table and sitting next to him.

"You won?" Ethan was expectant. "That was fast!"

"They settled out of court," Brian explained. "Settled for a lot less than if they'd done it earlier."

"They got scared when they heard Brian," said an older guy at the end of the table, with gray hair and little round glasses. "The Shark came out of the water, they never stood a chance."

Brian _The Shark_. How apt; Ethan was delighted. He couldn't have been more proud if he'd tried the case himself.

He was introduced to everyone at the table, and promptly forgot three of the names, knowing he would never remember all of them anyway. The two he tried to commit to memory were the mature guy, Damian, described as 'senior partner' (Brian's boss, Ethan interpreted) and the dark-haired woman who'd been sitting with Brian in the court earlier. Her name was Charlotte, and she had slightly unfocused eyes like she'd had a few too many drinks.

The party had finished dessert and moved on to coffee and brandy. Damian was holding forth in a conversation about golf, making various references to a guy called Harvey who Ethan quickly understood to be his boyfriend; long term life partner, from the sound of it. Inferring from this that the company wasn't likely to be hostile, Ethan dared to reach out and bump Brian's leg lightly with his own. To his pleasure, Brian shifted sideways to rest his thigh against Ethan's. Ethan fairly glowed with happiness, and felt a hard-on start to form in his pants.

In a moment when Brian was absorbed in a conversation with the man on the other side of him, Charlotte leaned towards Ethan and said in an exaggerated whisper, "It's so great to meet you. It's so nice to see Brian's finally got a boyfriend."

Her speech was a little slurred; she was obviously sloshed. Ethan considered a denial, but actually, it seemed appropriate. He really felt like he _was _Brian's boyfriend--look at them, sitting together, knees touching, chatting with Brian's work colleagues! Ethan bloomed for a minute, enjoying the feeling.

"I told him he shouldn't work so hard," Charlotte continued. "I told him he should take some time off, date more. I even set him up on a couple of blind dates with gay friends of mine. That didn't go so well." She turned brooding brown eyes towards Brian. "He's been alone since I've known him, since he came to work at the Firm."

"It's hard meeting people when you work long hours," Ethan remarked, wondering if Brian had ever had a serious boyfriend. Maybe not. "You should try being a chef. We work weekends, holidays, Christmas, you name it! We all end up dating other chefs, or long-distance truck drivers, or--"

"Lawyers," she supplied. "I saw you in the courtroom today. You must really like him to come watch him work."

Ethan hadn't thought of it quite like that before. He got bored easily, was always inquisitive about new things, had been satisfying his curiosity. But... yeah. He _did _really like Brian.

"I guess I do," he confirmed, with a grin. "Who wouldn't? He's hot. And scorching, when he's talking in the courtroom."

"He sure is." She nodded and looked deep into her coffee cup.

In a flash, Ethan understood. She was in love with Brian. In hopeless, unrequited love with a guy who wasn't ever going to feel the same way. Ha ha, oh dear, he had a fag hag on his hands. And Ethan would have bet anything that Brian had _no--idea--whatsoever._ The dude might be the smartest trial lawyer on the block, but was clearly clueless when it came to his personal life. Ethan had a terrible temptation to tease Charlotte, and just stopped himself in time.

Damian was standing up to go. He walked around the table, shook hands with Brian and said, "Well, congrats again. And like I said earlier, take tomorrow off."

"Yes sir," Brian said, smiling.

"I mean it, I don't want to see you in the office until next week. You make sure he doesn't come in, right?" Damian said to Ethan.

Ethan jumped a little in surprise, then took his cue from Brian. "Yessir!"

And Ethan reached sideways to put a proprietary hand on Brian's shoulder. It was Brian's turn to jump a little, but he didn't move away. He looked around at Ethan, his green eyes big and bright behind his spectacles.

"Let's go," Ethan said, a little husky suddenly.

* * *

  
They bade farewells to the rest of the group, and went back to Brian's place. It was every bit as nice an apartment as Ethan had hoped; high, roomy, white walls, neatly furnished. Fantastic views of the city.

And the most important room did not disappoint. "This is a decent kitchen," Ethan pronounced, scanning the stainless steel units. There was a fantastic free-standing range, with six gas burners: Ethan was immediately envious.

"I like to cook a bit sometimes, when I've got time," Brian said, a trifle sheepish. "Of course, nothing like you do."

Ethan opened the refrigerator and was favorably impressed; real food, real ingredients. In Ethan's experience, hard-working office high-fliers were apt to have nothing in the fridge at all except champagne and chocolates. Brian did have some prepackaged meals lurking on the shelves, but also some actual meat and vegetables. Ethan rooted a bit more. No fresh herbs, but a small selection of spices and a sturdy pepper grinder.

"I could cook here," Ethan said with an air of magnanimity.

"I would love that," Brian exclaimed with real warmth, and Ethan was pleased.

"We'd have to go shopping of course, first."

"Maybe tomorrow, before breakfast?" Brian said, and at this clear acknowledgment that he could stay, stay the night, Ethan turned and pushed Brian back against the nearest wall and tried to smother him with his body.

It had been a long time since Ethan had wanted anyone quite so much as this. And hey, Brian felt _great_. Ethan relished the warmth of the man squirming deliciously underneath his touch; firm chest, muscled arms, and a very pleasing bulge in the pants area. Brian's hands roamed too, fingers running through Ethan's hair, hands roaming down Ethan's body towards his crotch--

"Whoa," Brian said suddenly, through a mouthful of Ethan's tongue. His hand was paused over Ethan's groin. "What the hell?"

Ethan sighed; this again. "It's all me. My _banana flambé_," he added, attempting to add a touch of humor. "Don't freak out."

Ethan loved having a big dick and wouldn't have given it up for the world, but it did cause problems. He'd had some guys literally up and run out the room at the realization of what they were being asked to take. Others got all edgy and defensive at their own perceived inferiority, which was all bullshit. Ethan really, _really _hoped Brian wasn't going to duck out on him.

Brian's fingers splayed, seeking the full extent, and he said, "I'm not freaking out, but there's something I should tell you."

Ethan inwardly groaned. There was something he had to tell Brian too, but now was not the moment for it, not when the guy was hot and pliable under his hands. What kind of thing couldn't wait, had to be told now?--Christ, not an STD, what a downer that would be. "What?"

"I'm...not into ass-fucking."

"Really?" Whatever Ethan had expected, it wasn't that.

"No. Never have been. Other stuff, sure, but the anal stuff doesn't do it for me." Brian's eyes were down. The lights were dim, but Ethan thought he was blushing under that beard again. He could feel tension in Brian's shoulders; Brian worried about being rejected, as he had been himself a moment before.

Ethan knew there were plenty of gay men out there who didn't find butt sex a turn-on, chose to avoid it, but he'd never had anyone say it to him as plain as that before. Well, there was plenty of other fun stuff they could do instead. And maybe in the meantime he could talk up ass-fucking on the side...

"That's cool," Ethan whispered, and plunged his tongue into Brian's mouth again. Reassured, Brian kissed back with a vengeance.

Ethan wrapped his arms around Brian and pulled him as close as he could.


	2. Key Lime Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris learns how Brian and Ethan came to live together. First of three encounters that Chris &amp; Brian have with Brian's ex, Ethan, including flashbacks to Brian &amp; Ethan's relationship.
> 
> **Excerpt: ** _Chris went from pleasantly relaxed to a quivering ball of tension in a few seconds. Mention of Brian's handsome, arrogant, asshole ex-boyfriend was liable to do that to him._

Chris was pleased to hear the car pulling up outside: Brian back home, a little earlier than Chris had expected. He read to the end of the paragraph, put the book down, and stood up to stretch and greet Brian with a kiss as he came in the door.

"Hey. You made good time." Chris had done the drive to Princeton and back many times in the past for various reasons, and knew the journey well. "No traffic?"

"I left a bit early." Brian dropped his car keys on the coffee table. "Tina's having a dinner party this evening. She invited me to stay but I didn't think I should."

"Oh? Everything okay?"

"Tina and Tim are fine." Brian had been visiting his sister and his nephew, who was now six months old. Chris was allergic to babies and the way they seemed to ooze out of every orifice, and had ducked out of this trip. Brian wasn't much better than Chris, but he was trying to assume at least a vague avuncular role. "But, um, Ethan was there."

_"WHAT?"_ Chris went from pleasantly relaxed to a quivering ball of tension in a few seconds. Mention of Brian's handsome, arrogant, asshole ex-boyfriend was liable to do that to him. "Ethan? What the hell was he doing there?"

"Tina hired him to cater her dinner party. She used to do that sometimes, pay enough to make it worth his while coming down from the city. He swaps a shift at the bistro, gets a bit of extra cash moonlighting." Brian sat down and sighed. "He was in the kitchen most of the time, making his key lime pie...but when he came out to chat, he was great with the baby."

Chris sat down slowly next to Brian, annoyed but calming down quickly. "He doesn't strike me as a baby kind of person."

"Well, I held Tim for two minutes and he screamed non-stop and then threw up on my sleeve. Whereas he sat happily on Ethan's lap for half an hour, good as gold." Brian looked glumly at his sweater sleeve, which had a dark stain on it. "He had Tina eating out of his hand--Ethan, not Tim. He can be charming when he wants to be. Told her he'd have loved to have been a dad. If he'd ever had the chance."

"Really?" Chris was incredulous. Ethan was way too self-centered to care for anyone else, let alone a child.

Brian shook his head. "No. But he was sincere when he said it, like he'd convinced himself it was true right there on the spot."

That Chris could imagine. "Sounds like Mr Egotistical Bastard all over."

"He always was a great one for bending the truth and convincing himself he wasn't lying," Brian said reminiscently. "He was always the wronged party, never the wrongdoer. And because he believed it himself, he'd be so vehement you'd start wondering if he was right after all."

Chris relaxed back into the sofa cushions and reached out to curl a hand around the back of Brian's neck.

"You know, when we first started going out we kept going back to my apartment, and I started to wonder why we never went to his place." Brian settled comfortably into Chris's arm. "And then I found out why. Of course, Ethan would remember it differently."

 

* * *

  
Ethan was in love. _In love in love in love_.

In the space of just a couple of weeks, Ethan had grown to adore Brian's wry wit and sharp intellect. Each day Ethan stirred pans and mixed sauces while dreaming of green eyes behind spectacles, firm forearms, and soft brown hair. He hankered after the strong courtroom voice and powerful gestures. He delighted in bringing on a faint pink blush behind that trim beard.

They met nearly every evening, Brian usually swinging by the bistro late after work. They went out to bars, clubs, restaurants, late night movies. They went back to Brian's apartment afterwards. Brian had started to get inquisitive about where Ethan lived, and Ethan was starting to run out of excuses as to why they couldn't go back to his place.

"Oh it's only a room, down in Greenwich village… tiny, nothing special. I only sleep there, really."

Increasingly, he wasn't even sleeping there much, either; Brian had a very large and comfortable bed. At night Ethan nestled under Brian's crisp white sheets and could see himself there for the long term, but he had an issue to deal with first. He'd done his level best to push it to the very back of his mind, and succeeded rather well. But inevitably, one night it caught up with him.

* * *

  
Brian had come to meet him at the bistro and they'd gone to a nearby basement bar. They'd just gone inside, Ethan throwing a casual arm around Brian and kissing him as they reached the friendly environment, when a strong hand grasped his shoulder from behind, pulled him away from Brian and sent him spinning against the wall. Ethan turned his face to one side just in time to stop his nose being squashed against concrete; as it was, he felt his left ear throb and a cheekbone graze instead.

"You fucking cheating bastard!" a voice snarled in Ethan's good ear, and Ethan's heart sank; Dirk had finally caught up with him.

Then a strong pitching arm yanked Dirk away, and slammed the back of his head into the wall next to Ethan.

"Hey!" Dirk objected.

"What's your problem?" Brian demanded, meeting Dirk eyeball to eyeball.

Ethan basked momentarily in the pleasure of having Brian sticking up for him, willing to fight on his behalf. This feeling dissipated rapidly in the knowledge that Brian wasn't going to be at all happy to find out about Dirk.

"Get your hands off me, asshole," Dirk snapped, and pushed Brian away with a sharp shove in the middle of the chest.

Brian's eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Ask the worthless son-of-a-bitch over there." Dirk waved a hand in Ethan's direction.

"Brian, this is Dirk," Ethan said with as much dignity as he could garner. He put a hand up to his smarting cheek and was a little disappointed not to find any blood. "He's my—uh—ex."

"_Ex!_ You shameless, cheating bastard!" Dirk's face was suffused with red fury. "Since when did we break up? You're still living with me! All your stuff's at my place!"

"Oh come on." Ethan summoned up some righteous indignation without difficulty. "We haven't been together for months, not really. You've been out fucking your way around the world—"

"Like _you _can talk! I was back from my last trip days ago and you've been avoiding me ever since. So I went to find you at work this evening and whaddya know, there you are strolling out the door with a fresh piece of ass on your arm--"

"--And you followed us here? You're a sad, stalking asshole," Ethan sneered.

"Fuck you. I've had it with you and your oversized, overactive dick." Dirk shook a finger in Ethan's face. "You move all your stuff out tonight, _Ex_, or I throw it all out on the street in the morning."

And he marched away, out of the bar. Ethan forgot him almost instantly, turning immediately to the much more important matter of the new almost-boyfriend, who was standing there with eyes popping and mouth gaping. Ethan could see wheels turning in Brian's head as he re-evaluated the last two weeks in the light of this new information.

"Brian—" Ethan began, beseeching.

"You're living with him. That's why we could never go to your place." Brian had gone pale. "You had a live-in boyfriend, he went away, and you picked me up to play with while he was gone. You lied to me."

"Well, I didn't, actually," Ethan couldn't help saying. "You never asked, so I just didn't say."

"Then just when were you planning to tell me about him?" Betrayal was written all over Brian's face. "Or were you just going to drop me when he came back and found out?"

And he turned away in the direction of the door.

"No! No!" Ethan caught Brian by the arm. "Brian, no! Listen, hear me out, please!"

Brian stopped, folded his arms and looked Ethan dead in the eye. "Go on."

"I've been going out with him for two years, but it's been over for months now, it really has. I can't even remember the last time we had sex." (This wasn't technically true, Ethan knew it was three weeks ago Wednesday…but before he'd met Brian, so it really didn't matter). "He's a jerk. I should have left him ages ago."

Brian's chin was jutting out. "But you didn't."

"I didn't, because we just kinda drifted apart. He's a senior flight attendant, used to do short hops, now he does long-haul, away for days at a time, hardly ever home any more." Ethan was gabbling madly, desperate to get the words out. "He's got nothing to be precious about either, he fucks around all over the world, whatever city he happens to be in, always has done. I got fed up with it."

"Why didn't you just tell me about him?" Brian demanded.

"Because I really, really, liked you!" Ethan blurted. "I didn't want to risk ruining things! If I'd told you at the start I was living with someone, you'd have never even, uh, let me get to first base. And then I couldn't tell you because I knew you'd be mad. I hoped I could just break up with him once he came back and you'd never have to know. But," Ethan shrugged hopelessly. "I didn't have any other place to live, so I just tried to see as little of him as possible. We weren't really in a relationship anymore."

"I don't buy it." Brian pulled himself up to his full height and looked Ethan dead in the eye. "You were going out for two years. You were living together. You never broke up. You never told me about him. And you sneaked around both of us so we wouldn't meet. You're deluding yourself, Ethan; you _are_ a fucking cheating bastard."

It was an unexpected glimpse of _Brian The Shark_ coming out of the water; the powerful voice, the aggressive stance, the ruthless logic, building an unanswerable case. Ethan was hopelessly turned on. And now Brian was turning from him, starting to walk away--the thought of Brian walking out of his life made Ethan's heart plummet and his stomach churn.

"Brian, don't go. Please. I…. I love you."

Brian flinched and stopped. "You shouldn't say that unless you mean it."

"I do mean it! I really do!" Ethan was panicked now; he had to see Brian again. His mind raced through issues, problems, and possible ways forward. "Look, give me a chance to make it up, please. Let me stay in your spare room."

Brian laughed incredulously. "You must be joking!"

"You heard Dirk, I have to move out tonight! I've got nowhere to go. Let me stay with you, just for a few days until I sort something else out, please? And perhaps we can talk things through in the meantime." Ethan was begging now and didn't care. "I'll stay in the spare bed. You can see me as a tenant, I could even—" he gulped a little—"pay you rent."

"You don't have to do that," Brian said grudgingly, and Ethan saw he'd won this battle. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"Just for a few days, alright?" Brian's tone held a strong warning note.

"Alright," Ethan agreed solemnly. "Say, you couldn't help me move my stuff, could you?"

* * *

  
Ethan had to move his own stuff, but it wasn't too much of a bind. He didn't have a lot of possessions apart from cooking equipment. He was no hoarder; he liked shopping, but was always quick to get rid of books he'd read, music he'd listened to, clothes he no longer wore. Most old things he wanted to keep were at his family home back in rural New Hampshire, where his doting parents kept his old room for him just as it had been since high school.

There was plenty of space in Brian's spare room anyway, as Ethan found when he was camped there. Brian pretty much lived in his living room and bedroom, and rarely went into the spare room. It functioned as both a guest bed and study, but Brian didn't seem to have many guests, and when he had to work evenings and weekends, he tended to go into the office rather than work at home.

Brian left a note the first day: _You've got one week. Less if you piss me off. _

Ethan duly crept around the apartment, keeping things tidy, staying out of Brian's way as much as possible, only too aware of how precarious his position was.

Remembering that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach, he cooked nice meals during the day before going to work, and left them for Brian to find in the evening. He made things that could sit and reheat later: lasagna, moussaka, cannelloni with a soft Gorgonzola filling. Desserts, too; cupcakes, cookies, brownies with chocolate still oozing in the middle. He spent a while lovingly creating his special recipe key lime pie. The food duly vanished, and Ethan crossed his fingers and hoped it was helping.

One thing he didn't do was look for another place to live. It would have been a lot of hassle, and Ethan hoped to avoid it. He had great faith that things always worked out for him in the end.

A week later, Ethan was in bed when he heard Brian come back; he glanced at the clock. Very late, even for Brian. He was startled to hear a knock at his door.

"Come in," Ethan called, and Brian came in. He cast a glance at Ethan in bed, then sat down on the desk chair.

Ethan never wore anything in bed, and was naked under the sheets now. He sat up, keeping himself covered by the sheet, but only just. Why not give Brian a reminder of what he was missing out on.

"I talked to Dirk the Jerk," Brian said abruptly.

Now that was unexpected. Ethan gulped, not at all sure what was coming next.

"He pretty much confirmed what you said," Brian went on, and Ethan relaxed a little. "That you were both marking time, still together only because it was easier than breaking up. He's mad at you, but mainly because you found someone else before he did, I think."

That rang true, and Ethan nodded. "How did you find him? How did you get him to talk to you?"

"Your work colleagues gave me _your_ address," Brian said pointedly. "I caught him just before he took off for his next flight. He didn't mind talking to me—he was curious." Pause. "At the end he wished me luck and told me you'd be fucking around behind my back within six months."

Ethan hissed through his teeth in annoyance. "He's a jerk and he's jealous. Don't pay any attention to that."

Brian looked at Ethan through a cynical narrowed eye.

"It's different with you," Ethan pleaded. "Really. I told you… I'm in love with you."

"You know, I told Dirk the Jerk you said that," Brian said, and Ethan gulped again. "He didn't believe me. Said he couldn't imagine you saying that to anyone."

In for a penny, in for a pound. "That's because I've never felt like this before," Ethan declaimed, heartfelt, earnest and guileless. "Brian, I really want to make this work."

"I want to make this work too," Brian said abruptly, and it was as if iron shackles fell from Ethan's soul and let it suddenly fly free. He fairly leaped out of bed and rushed to throw his arms around Brian, who let out a surprised _oof_, then kissed him back.

Ethan was already naked of course, and he felt Brian's eyes and then hands on his flaccid but still impressively large cock immediately. He hastened to undo Brian's pants, and Brian shifted on the chair to wriggle them off.

Then Ethan dropped to his knees, put his head between Brian's legs, and proceeded to give the best blow job he'd ever given--judging from the reaction he got, anyway. Brian was hard and gasping within a few seconds, and would have come within a minute if Ethan had let him. Ethan reined things in a little, gave him another couple of minutes, eking it out until Brian was almost falling out of the chair. With a final authoritative lick Ethan brought Brian over the edge, ducking his head back to let Brian spurt across his chest. Brian sat panting and helpless, watching Ethan bring himself off with a couple of deft hand movements.

Afterwards they lay under the sheets for a while, recovering. Ethan was almost falling asleep when Brian's voice made him jump awake. "You haven't found another apartment, have you?"

"No," Ethan admitted. "I was kinda hoping to stay here. Well, not quite _here_," he gestured at the bed. "Your bed _is _more comfortable."

Brian lay back and looked up at the ceiling. "Ground rules. You do the cooking, you keep the place as tidy as I do, and you don't fuck around."

"It's a deal." Ethan was absolutely sincere. He flung an arm across Brian's chest and kissed his neck. "I'm so glad you talked to Dirk!"

"I wasn't going to." Brian arched his neck a little to allow Ethan to nuzzle it. "Yesterday I wanted your worthless ass out on the street."

"What made you change your mind?" Ethan asked, curious.

"The key lime pie," Brian said light-heartedly, and laughed. "Never had such a good one. It made me think there were a lot of things about you that would be a shame to lose. It's a bit different from key lime pie I've had before, how do you make it?"

"You don't bake it, you freeze it," Ethan said, delighted to have found the key to Brian's heart, and happily launched into a cooking lesson.

* * *

  
"So when he started going out with you, he was cheating on another guy," Chris said in fascination. "Talk about showing his true colors right at the beginning. And you let it go?"

Brian hadn't mentioned the blow job to Chris, and decided there really was no need. No need, either, to mention how powerfully attractive he'd found Ethan back then; how warm and charming and endearingly cheeky Ethan could be; how he'd filled Brian's previously gray and lonely home life with light and color and energy.

"Well, he really was in love with me." Brian was a trifle sheepish. "He had a funny way of showing it sometimes, 'cause he loves himself so much more, but I got used to that."

"You're well rid of him." Chris tousled Brian's hair, and hesitated before speaking again. "Look, when are you next going to see Tina and Tim? I'll come along too."

Brian was both amazed and delighted. "Uh, week after next, probably. Thanks, it would be really great to have company. And Tina would love to see you." There was a short pause. "Ethan won't be there, you know. That was a one-off."

"I know." Chris was awkward. "I should come anyway. I'm not used to this family stuff, but I should try harder."

Brian found this surprising, but then recalled that Chris had no living relations; his family consisted of Linus and Raul, and his close circle of friends and regulars at the club. It had never occurred to Brian before that Chris, usually so confident and self-assured,might find this new kind of interaction so difficult.

"Then I'll make you." Brian grinned mischievously. "Hey, it'll be fun. With you there, there'll be someone in the room worse with babies than me."

Chris grinned back. "I can't wait."

END


	3. Strawberry Baked Alaska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan the tenant from hell pesters Brian and Chris for a new microwave. Second of three encounters that Chris &amp; Brian have with Brian's ex, Ethan, including flashbacks to Brian &amp; Ethan's relationship.
> 
> **Excerpt**: _Brian immediately saw that the purpose of Ethan's call was to inform Brian that he had a new Someone Special._

Brian got home one day from a long legal consult with one of his favorite seniors, old Mrs Hepplewaite, who was having a dispute with her landlord. He found Chris standing in the living room with one hand clenched and the other white-knuckling the telephone.

"Hey," Brian said uncertainly.

"You just missed a call from Ethan," Chris said, without greeting. "Your tenant from hell. He says the microwave's broken in your apartment and can you have it fixed by tomorrow as he's entertaining someone special."

Brian immediately saw that the purpose of Ethan's call was to inform Brian that he had a new Someone Special. He resisted asking for all of two seconds, then asked, "Oh yeah? Who is it, did you ask?"

"No, I didn't! I told him I didn't believe a top chef like himself would need a microwave for entertaining." Chris put some sarcasm into the words _top chef_. "He got all uppity, said no good cook would have broken equipment around, and what was he paying rent for anyway? So I told him to buy a new damn microwave and send you the bill."

Brian tried to sound soothing. "That sounds like a good solution."

"Yeah, except he said he would be too busy having his hair cut tomorrow so wouldn't possibly have time to go shopping." Chris threw the handset down on the couch, much harder than necessary. "I figured he was going to use this as an excuse not to pay the rent next month, so I told him we'd get it fixed. He asked if it could be done by two PM tomorrow so as not to upset his plans. The _fucker_! I have never met anyone as selfish and egocentric as him! Was he always like this?"

"Yes, he was, really." Brian was sheepish.

"How did you live with it?" Chris demanded.

Brian pondered. He hadn't always liked Ethan very much, but he'd always loved him, right to the end, and that had helped overlook a lot of bad behavior. He tried to find a different way of explaining to Chris. "Well, he put up with a lot of crap from me, too. I wasn't always easy to live with, as I'm sure he'd tell you."

 

* * *

  
They'd been together about four months when Brian lost a case. It was illuminating for Ethan, who watched with horrified fascination as Brian worked almost nonstop for a week while in court, barely eating, hardly sleeping, talking incessantly about the case in the little time Ethan was able to spend with him, unable to concentrate on anything other than legal minutiae as victory slipped through his fingertips.

The verdict came in late one afternoon, and Ethan got the call at work. "It's over. We lost. I'm going back to the office for the autopsy."

Well, thank fuck for that. Maybe he'd get his boyfriend back now. Ethan hoped this didn't happen too often, it had been a serious interruption to their sex life.

He headed to Brian's office as soon as he could get away in the evening, and found Brian standing morosely in a meeting room with several other people including a long-faced Charlotte and a more cheerful-looking Damian. Everyone was drinking, but the glass in Brian's hand was almost untouched, and when Ethan leaned in to kiss him, there was hardly a hint of whiskey on his breath.

"I'd have thought you'd be three sheets to the wind by now," Ethan tried to joke.

"Brian's not one to drink his sorrows away," Charlotte said, her slurred tone demonstrating the opposite approach.

Ethan interpreted this as an _I know him better than you do_ remark, and ignored her. "So, what happened?"

"Oh, the case was lost three days ago when the opposition's expert witness got everyone eating out of his hand," Brian said in disgust. "I tried to turn it around, hoped yesterday I might have done enough, but I hadn't."

"You win some, you lose some, right?" Ethan was an eternal optimist.

Brian glowered. "I don't like losing."

Ethan wondered if Brian might be in trouble with the senior partners. The Firm might be tough, but surely it didn't fire its lawyers when they lost. He left Brian brooding with Charlotte, and edged his way around the room to speak to Damian.

"Bad luck," Ethan commiserated. "But you can't win them all, right?"

"Indeed," Damian said briskly. "It does Brian good to be brought down to earth once in a while. I make sure he gets a case like this one occasionally; it spurs him on to even greater heights next time."

Suddenly Ethan saw Damian in a whole new light. He took a step backwards and peered at the senior partner. "You give him cases he might lose on purpose?"

"Not often. But sometimes, yes. It's best for all of us to have a fully motivated Brian." Damian swilled wine around his glass. "Benign pressure is the key."

Ethan didn't really understand this, but he did see Damian as the Wizard of Oz, a small figure manipulating the Firm's larger machine, pulling strings and making Brian dance. Ethan was breathless.

"I've been meaning to invite you and Brian over to dinner for a while," Damian went on. "Harvey and I like to have dinner parties for coworkers the first Monday night of the month, work permitting of course. Perhaps you'd be able to join us next month?"

* * *

  
"I haven't been to dinner at Damian's for ages." Brian was enthusiastic.

"But you have been before, right?" Ethan checked.

"Yes, but always when they need an odd person to make up the numbers. I've never been there _with_ anyone before." Brian smiled. "They used to invite me when they needed a guy, and Charlotte when they needed a girl. Both of us at the same time, sometimes."

Oooh, Charlotte must have _loved_ that. Ethan could just imagine her pretending she was on a date with Brian. Well, boohoo, that sucks for her. He was with Ethan now and she could just lump it.

"She's coming to this dinner too," Brian added, with a note of surprise in his voice. "She's got a new boyfriend, apparently, so Damian thought it would be nice to meet him. Never met any boyfriend of hers before, should be interesting."

Charlotte moving on? Or proving if Brian could get a guy, so could she? "Yes, it should be very interesting," Ethan agreed.

* * *

  
Damian's swank apartment took Ethan's breath away. He'd always thought Brian's sleek modern apartment was large and luxurious, but this—this was in a whole different league. Wood paneled walls like at the offices of The Firm; heavy drapes, ancient mirrors with dulled surfaces, antique furniture. It spoke of old money and established position.

They arrived to find a small group of well-dressed people drinking champagne from tall, elegant flutes. The party included Charlotte, who was accompanied by a big blond guy with a vacuous smile.

"Guess that's the new boyfriend," Brian muttered, and they headed over to be introduced.

It was obvious to Ethan in thirty seconds flat that the guy was an idiot, all that muscle accompanying a completely empty head. Brian managed to strike up a conversation about baseball, but that seemed to be the limit. What on earth the guy talked about with Charlotte, Ethan had no idea. Perhaps they just didn't talk much.

A welcome distraction then arrived in the shape of a tall, elderly man with a completely shaved egg-shaped head.

"Harvey, great to see you again." Brian was effusive in shaking hands. "I'd like you to meet Ethan."

"Pleased to meet you." Ethan shook hands, intrigued. So this was Damian's other half. He suspected Harvey had lost his hair rather earlier in life than he might have liked, and shaved it all off as a statement.

"Likewise." Harvey peered at Ethan. "So, you're a chef, I hear? I warned our cook we had a chef among the guests, I think he took it as a bit of a personal challenge."  
There were staff serving the food and drinks, and Ethan realized they hadn't been shipped in for the occasion; they worked there. Damn, Damian and Harvey could afford staff. Ethan wondered what it was like to work as a private chef. He supposed it would be important to get on well with the boss.

They chatted for a few minutes, and Ethan gathered that Harvey was in real estate. No wonder they had such a great apartment. The two of them must be worth a lot of money.

There were eight guests, two all-male couples and two mixed, a nicely balanced party. With Damian and Harvey as hosts, they were ten around a large mahogany dining table. Ethan found himself seated on Damian's left, with Brian diagonally opposite. Charlotte, down the far end, kept casting glances at Brian and occasionally at Ethan too.

Dinner was top notch; a delicate shrimp starter followed by prime beef fillet. Ethan could barely fault a thing. At the end came a rather unusual Baked Alaska, hot crispy meringue covering exquisite strawberry ice-cream below.

"This strawberry Baked Alaska works really well," Ethan remarked, admiring the attractive blush hue. "Great idea!"

Damian said with a twinkle in his eye, "Go tell Chef you liked it, he'll be pleased. Maybe he'll even give you the recipe."

Eager to get a glimpse into the kitchen as much as inquire about the dessert, after everyone had finished eating and switched to coffee, Ethan took up the offer. He slipped out of the room and found the apartment had a hallway to the side, with the kitchen and a bathroom at the back. There was also a staircase leading to a floor upstairs--bedrooms, Ethan presumed.

He spent a few minutes chatting to the chef, an elderly Italian who had clearly been cooking for Damian and Harvey for many years. He accepted Ethan's compliments graciously and refused to give out his recipe for the strawberry Baked Alaska, although he did remark that the filling was both homemade strawberry sorbet and homemade strawberry ice-cream. Ethan made a mental note and resolved to experiment himself.

As Ethan came out of the kitchen and walked along the hallway, he saw Brian come out of the bathroom. And then out of the corner of his eye, Ethan spotted Charlotte at the top of the stairs. Presumably she'd gone up to use another bathroom. Brian hadn't seen her, and suddenly an thought struck Ethan with a surge of excitement.

He fairly leaped forward, smothered the startled Brian with a kiss, and bundled him back into the bathroom.

"Hey," Brian said in surprise, as Ethan pulled the door shut behind them, then pushed him against a wall. "Ethan? What--"

Ethan covered Brian's mouth with his own, pressed his body tightly up against Brian's, and then reached down with one hand to Brian's fly.

"Ah," Brian gasped, closing his eyes. "Ethan, we can't, not here--"

"Yes we can," Ethan whispered back, unzipping his own fly.

It was short and sweet and searingly hot, their two cocks rubbing together at first awkwardly, then in unison, increasingly hard and slippery with judicious amounts of saliva. The darkened, luxurious bathroom layered on the tension and the thrill, the excitement presumably overcoming qualms Brian may have had about having sex in his bosses' bathroom. Ethan and then Brian climaxed easily, one after the other.

After a mopping session, they left the bathroom together, both slightly breathless. Brian peered all around the hallway, but didn't look up the stairs. Ethan managed a tiny furtive glance, and was jubilant to catch a glimpse of Charlotte still there, flattened against the wall.

Once in the hallway, Ethan put a hand on Brian's shoulder and said, "Hold on, your shirt's untucked. Let me--"

Brian stood still while Ethan reached around and slid a hand down Brian's waistband, into his pants. Carefully tucking in the shirt (which had been untucked, but only a little), Ethan took the opportunity to nestle a hand around Brian's left hip and then cop a feel of buttock. Brian was happy enough to turn his head and kiss Ethan on the neck; Ethan was happy because Charlotte would have had an absolutely bird's eye view.

It was a very satisfactory evening.

* * *

  
Next day Brian called Ethan from work with news.

"Charlotte's put in for a transfer to our San Francisco office." Brian was incredulous. "Says she needs a change. I don't get it. She's never given the slightest hint she wasn't happy here."

"She's in love with you, you moron!" Ethan said in exasperation.

There was a pause. "No. You're jerking me around."

"No, I'm not." It had been fun before with Brian in blissful ignorance, but now Ethan was fed up. "Ask her. Ask anyone at the damn Firm, they'll tell you."

Another pause. "But--she never--I don't believe you."

"Fine," Ethan snapped. "Don't!"

But that evening Brian came home late, with troubled eyes and ruffled hair, as if he'd been scratching his head all day. He came and sat on the couch next to Ethan, who looked at him inquisitively.

"You were right. She broke down in tears and said she's been in love with me for years." Brian's voice rose in incredulity as he spoke. "She said it was okay while I was single, but she couldn't handle it when you came on the scene."

"I knew it." Ethan didn't care that he sounded triumphant.

"She also said the last straw was seeing you feeling me up in the hallway at Damian's," Brian said sternly, and Ethan felt himself blush a little. "That was embarrassing. I told her I had no idea she was there. But you knew, didn't you?"

"Yes," Ethan admitted, and Brian groaned. "Hey, I figured it would be a turn on for her."

"You can be an absolute bastard, Ethan," Brian sighed.

"Good thing you love me," Ethan dared to joke, flashing an impish smile and flicking back his hair.

Brian smiled and didn't deny it.

* * *

  
Chris set the new microwave down on the kitchen table and wondered when Ethan was likely to use it. Probably never. They hadn't made it by Ethan's two PM deadline, but they were in advance of his big evening meal for the new squeeze.

"What're you cooking?" Brian asked inquisitively, looking around the kitchen. There were mixing bowls and a box of eggs sitting out on a surface.

"I'm about to make a meringue, to go with the pink ice-cream cake I made yesterday." Ethan dipped a coquettish eye and nodded at the freezer. "You know what that is, don't you, Brian? It always was one of your favorites."

"Strawberry Baked Alaska, I remember when you were experimenting with that," Brian exclaimed with delight, and at that moment Chris really, _really _hated Ethan and his wretched shared past with Brian.

Chris had barely a jealous bone in his body, had in fact gloried in watching Brian sucking some anonymous stranger's dick a couple of days before, wanted to persuade Brian to do more of that kind of thing... but Ethan was different. The thought of Brian and Ethan together was enough to give Chris a powerful spurt of furious adrenalin. Sometimes he deliberately thought about it at the gym--it invariably brought on a frenzy of boxing at the punching bag.

"So, tell me about the new guy," Brian said to Ethan, and by the hasty change of subject Chris could see that Brian was not oblivious to his feelings.

"His name is Nat. Short for Nathaniel. He is just wonderful, smart, funny, sexy," Ethan gushed. "He owns three hotels! He's not happy with his head chef, asked me to advise on their menus, and one thing just led to another. I _adore _him."

Chris would have bet anything that three hotels with associated kitchens were a large part of the attraction.

"Very interesting. Chris used to own a motel once, sold it a while back. But he does own quite a few restaurants." Brian's tone was splendidly innocent. "How many, Chris?"

The look of surprise and dismay on Ethan's face had to be seen to be believed as he burbled, "You own restaurants?"

"Yeah. Six, I think, at the moment." Greatly entertained by Ethan's reaction, Chris counted on his fingers. "The steakhouse, the two diners, the brasserie, the Italian and the new Mexican place up in Princeton. And I have three bars and a club, they all serve food and have chefs too."

"Brian, you could have told me," Ethan said crossly.

Brian shrugged a little. "You never asked."

Of course not; Ethan wouldn't have been the slightest bit interested if there hadn't been potential in it for himself. Chris could see Ethan visibly waver, as if wondering just how rude he had been to Chris The Unexpected Restaurant Owner, and whether it might be worth trying to mend fences at this point.

But just as Chris thought Ethan might actually reach out and put a hand on his arm, Ethan pulled back and said a little huffily, "Well, Chris, do let me know if I can ever be of assistance." He swung a look back towards Brian and pasted a beam back on. "_Brian _will always be able to get hold of me."

Chris shook his head with a certain frustrated admiration; trust Ethan to have the last word.


	4. Pineapple Upside-Down Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Brian go to Ethan's civil union. We learn a little more about Brian &amp; Ethan's sex life, and how they broke up. Third of three encounters that Chris &amp; Brian have with Brian's ex, Ethan, including flashbacks to Brian &amp; Ethan's relationship.
> 
> **Excerpt**: _"I really don't know what you ever saw in that self-centered smug bastard." Chris picked up another glass of wine from a passing tray. "Apart from the obvious." _

"So, how long do you give it?" Chris asked conversationally, swirling wine around his glass.

"Mmm." Brian frowned and rubbed his bristled chin. "Two years if they both really want to make it work. One year if Ethan screws up managing Nat's hotel kitchens. They should keep work and their relationship separate, if you ask me."

"I guess running the restaurants was part of the attraction." Chris looked across the room, where the beaming Ethan was blossoming as the center of attention. Chris had been to quite a few civil unions, but had never seen quite such a self-satisfied groom.

"I imagine he held off accepting the ring until he got that." Brian spoke dryly.

"So you think he could be back working at the bistro and living in your apartment in a year?" The thought made Chris feel gloomy.

"It'll probably be longer than that." Brian was judicious. "And he may not need to go back to where he was. He's smart enough to get himself a decent divorce settlement out of Nat, if he can risk the temptation to screw around."

Chris nodded solemnly. Brian had been very ambivalent about accepting the invitation to Ethan's civil union, saying it would be weird as the ex, that they'd been invited just so Ethan could show off his catch. Curiosity had gotten the better of Brian in the end, and Chris had been happy to accompany him. After all, it had finally got Ethan out of Brian's old apartment, which was a Good Thing. If it lasted.

It _was _weird, though, and now they were at the reception they were both drinking too much, too quickly. Chris knew Brian would always harbor something of a soft spot for Ethan, however badly Ethan had treated him. He hoped Brian wasn't feeling any pangs of regret.

"Brian!" Ethan came bounding across the room. "How great you could come! And Chris." The sincerity in his voice suddenly rang false. "How nice to see you again too."

"Congratulations, Ethan," Brian said, with genuine warmth. "You look great."

Chris felt a flare of jealousy, and tried to tamp it down. The really annoying thing was that Ethan _did _look great, and effortlessly so. It bugged the hell out of Chris that Ethan was taller than him, younger than him, had fairer hair, good cheekbones and a fast metabolism. And, Chris was most disgruntled to know, Ethan was ridiculously well endowed. _Bastard_.

"Thank you." Ethan beamed and flipped his white-blond hair back; he'd had it cut shorter than usual and it suited him. The tux looked good on him too; Chris had never seen him dressed smartly before.

"I hope you'll both be very happy," Brian added.

"I will, Brian, I will." Ethan rocked backwards and forwards on his feet. "I already am. I don't think anyone in the world could be as happy as I am! Anyway, must go, must circulate, but really great to see you."

He floated away, leaving Brian with a wry grin, and Chris openly fuming.

"I really don't know what you ever saw in that self-centered smug bastard." Chris picked up another glass of wine from a passing tray. "Apart from the obvious."

Brian grimaced. "That wasn't an immediate attraction."

"I was talking about his good looks, not the size of his cock!" Chris swatted at Brian in a friendly kind of way.

"Oh!" Brian blushed right through his beard and dropped his eyes to the floor. "Um, sorry."

But Chris's interest had been piqued. "The big dick _wasn't_ an attraction?"

"Well, no, it wasn't." Brian emptied his wineglass down his neck. "In fact, it was downright fucking terrifying. Do you _really_ want to hear about this?"

"Yeah." Just not in too much detail.

"It took some getting used to, that's all." Brian held out his glass to be filled by a passing waiter, then added sadly, "Also, of course, it meant he really wasn't made to be monogamous. But he did try."

 

* * *

  
Ethan would never have believed it, but he really felt that he had found _The One_, and need never have sex with anyone else ever again. Brian was smart, funny, urbane and just quirky enough to keep Ethan entertained without being annoying. And just as important, Brian was cute, fit, strong and damn sexy.

Okay, so he wasn't perfect. This love of his life wasn't into ass-fucking, which took a bit of adaptation. But Ethan had no complaints, actually. On the contrary, he was reveling in it. The blowjobs were great and he felt like he was discovering the ecstasy from a really good handjob for the first time. The satisfaction in watching Brian's face screw up and sweat in the last few seconds before pumping into Ethan's hand was immense. And the thrill in shooting across Brian's chest from a foot away…

Some gentle probing during a quiet, intimate nighttime conversation told Ethan that this anal hang-up stemmed from early unsuccessful attempts with a guy back in high school.

"High school?" Ethan mentally counted on fingers; he knew Brian was twenty-nine. That was a long time ago.

"Yeah." Brian's eyes were half-closed. "He'd never done it before either. It...didn't go well. We tried a few times, gave up."

Ethan winced at the thought of how awkward that must have all been. "And you haven't..._tried_...since?"

"Not had anyone to try it with, not properly," Brian said gruffly, and Ethan didn't push this. He was pretty sure that Brian hadn't had a boyfriend for any length of time since college; Brian had spoken of odd dates and snatched sexual encounters, but nothing major.

A different kind of gentle probing had convinced Ethan that Brian was by no means a lost cause in this matter. The man appreciated prostate stimulation; he came like a train when a finger was stuck up his butt at a suitably erotic moment during a blowjob, just like anyone else. He just got all tense at the idea of a dick going up there, and especially one the size of Ethan's. (And who, Ethan mused, could blame him for that?)

The man was ripe for another attempt, basically, and Ethan just had to bide his time and build up to it gradually.

It took a year, in the end; they got there on their first anniversary.

They went away for a long weekend at Niagara Falls. Ethan hadn't been there for years, and Brian had never been there. They stayed at a luxurious hotel right near the falls. In the evening, with the water outside a constant dull roar encapsulating them in a warm sanctuary, they made out on the bed, Ethan exploring and stretching with fingers and tongue and a handy dick-sized dildo he'd been trying out with Brian for a while; they took it very slow, gradually building up until Ethan was perilously close to losing his self-control, with Brian was sweating and panting and writhing beneath.

And when he got the nod from Brian, Ethan was as thrilled as if he'd won the lottery. He slipped on the condom and entered carefully, himself standing, Brian sprawled on his back on the bed, chest heaving and eyes half-shut. Ethan took it slowly at first, pausing to let Brian get used to it, and then, fully in, thrusting gently, _God this had so been worth the wait, _harder now; Brian gasping but not protesting, in fact moving a little with him now, _this was really going to work_; Ethan trembled, striving to keep his balance while leaning forward to get as close to Brian as possible as he thrust, bumping their foreheads briefly together, managing a quick tug of Brian's lower lip between his teeth. And then he fell off the precipice with a long, throaty cry that was almost a shout, and _glory be_, Brian was coming too, spurting madly between them.

They lay together for a long time afterwards, in something of a sticky mess but neither caring in the slightest. And Ethan was satisfied in more ways than one.

* * *

  
They lived together harmoniously for several years. Brian rose through the ranks at The Firm. Ethan left the bistro for a while when he got a better offer in a rival restaurant, and was then tempted back six months later as sous chef. They took lots of vacations, as often as their employers would let them; short trips out of the city, long weekends further afield, longer trips abroad. They had great sex and enjoyed each other's company. Ass-fucking was a healthy part of their sex life although it never dominated.

It was unfortunate that when push came to shove, monogamy really didn't come naturally to Ethan.

He tried. He really did try. And succeeded rather well at first. After all, they'd been together more than two years when he first failed at fidelity, succumbing to the glint in the eye of a shapely guy in a public restroom (of all places). Afterwards Ethan told himself that it had meant nothing, so it really didn't matter.

They'd passed their third anniversary when Ethan succumbed again, and much more publicly this time. A friend of one of Ethan's coworkers was throwing a party, Ethan and Brian went along, and Brian bumped into a couple of lawyers he knew. They were chatting away about dumb, boring court cases, so Ethan wandered off on his own, and got hit on by a younger guy with a raucous dirty laugh and a row of metal rings in each ear. Ethan played along for a laugh, then the guy got a feel of his crotch and went all wide-eyed, saying, "This I have to see."

The next thing Ethan knew, they were smooching in the bathroom. And then he was sitting on the edge of the bath with his pants around his ankles and a studded tongue wrapped around his cock. And the _next _thing he knew, the door was open and Brian was standing there with a face like thunder.

"Ethan," he said in a voice much quieter than Ethan expected, and then he was gone. The guy lapping away between his legs looked up enquiringly.

"Keep going!" Ethan snapped. If he was getting into trouble for this, he was damn well going to get an orgasm for it.

It wasn't a great orgasm though, the sight of Brian had really put paid to that. Ethan arrived home half an hour later to find their bedroom door closed firmly, and no amount of knocking or calling through the door got Brian to respond. Ethan bunked down in the spare room, sleeping lightly, waiting for the morning.

He woke with a jump when he heard the bedroom door opening. He leaped up and out to the living room to find Brian was already dressed and ready for work, carrying his briefcase, walking towards the front door, looking at the floor.

"Brian--"

"Fuck off," Brian said tensely.

"Brian, I'm sorry. I'm really, really, sorry." Ethan stuttered over his words. "It didn't mean anything."

"If it didn't mean anything, then why did you do it?" asked Brian the Shark, a note of steel in his voice.

This flummoxed Ethan. "It just happened! There's no reason--"

"It did not just happen. You do not _just happen_ to get a blowjob from a stranger in a bathroom at a party." The Shark was in full force now, applying ruthless logic. "You go looking for it. Or you agree to it. Either way you're a fucking cheating bastard."

"You were talking to your lawyer friends! I was bored!" Ethan protested.

"This is _my _fault?!" Brian shouted.

"No, I'm just trying to explain!" Ethan was indignant.

"There never was anyone like you for turning things upside-down." Brian threw up his hands in disgust.

"I thought you liked it upside-down." Ethan tried to joke. They'd been sixty-nining just a couple of nights before.

"Some things are good upside-down," Brian declared with a straight face. "Pineapple upside-down cake, for example. Other things aren't, Cheatin' Ethan.--I'm going to work."

He left, and Ethan sat down to mull the situation over. Brian's words stuck in his mind, and eventually Ethan headed into the kitchen and baked a pineapple upside-down cake. It had always been one of Brian's favorite desserts, and Ethan hoped it might amuse him too.

It worked, or at least it helped. Brian apparently didn't want to argue about it. Ethan kept his head down for a few days, and eventually Brian softened towards him, and things went gradually back to normal.

Ethan fell off the wagon on a few more occasions after that, succumbing to a come-on once in a while, hanging out in a cruising spot for a quick thrill now and again. He convinced himself that there was nothing serious, nothing that ever added up to an affair or meant anything at all, so there was no need to upset Brian by confessing anything.

Part of him knew that Brian _knew_; not the specifics, but that stuff happened. Brian wasn't stupid; he was choosing to ignore Ethan's infidelities, preferring to keep the peace, trusting that Ethan was smart enough to stay safe, and wasn't going anywhere. As Ethan was well aware, Brian had a strong flight instinct; head down, walk away. It was more powerful than any desire for confrontation. Perhaps, Ethan mused, he got enough of that in the courtroom.

* * *

  
Looking back, Ethan could pinpoint the exact moment things started to fall apart, some four and a half years after they'd met, and--he consoled himself--it wasn't anything to do with him at all, it was Brian all the way.

Brian didn't like his latest client. That wasn't particularly unusual, but Brian took a really strong, almost violent, dislike to this one.

"Why?" Ethan asked.

"He's a bastard. I know they often are, but he's a really nasty piece of work." Brian shook his head. "A real hard-ass-nutjob."

"Everyone deserves representation," Ethan quoted.

"Yeah. I just really wish it wasn't me." Brian was forlorn. "He's an absolute bastard to staff in his company, now one of them is suing him and it's difficult to blame them for trying... I don't think we'd have taken the case, but he's the brother of a friend of one of the senior partners."

Brian won the case, and this time it didn't make him happy. Ethan waited for the exultation, the rush, the triumph, which usually manifested in a great erotic rush and immense sexual satisfaction for them both. But instead Brian slunk off and got drunk, which was almost unheard of.

Ethan then waited for the funk to lift, but it didn't. Brian went into the office each day listlessly, didn't seem to have any fun anymore.

The next time a case of Brian's went to court, he lost, and this was bad. Instead of spurring him on to do better, he sank from funk to... Ethan hesitated to label it _depression_ but maybe it was. Nothing seemed to cheer Brian up. He didn't take pleasure in work, or going out, or anything anymore. He stopped playing baseball up in the park and started sitting in front of the TV instead, or reading books, except Ethan didn't think he was noticing much of the TV or the text.

Then Brian started making excuses for not having sex, and this rapidly escalated the situation as far as Ethan was concerned. One day a handsome if slightly portly investment banker called Chuck summoned Ethan out of the kitchen to compliment him on the meal he'd just had, and suggested a drink. Next thing Ethan knew, he really _was _having an affair.

He hesitated to break things off with Brian...after five years, fuck, you didn't throw that kind of relationship away lightly...but what to do?

The straw that broke the camel's back came when Brian arrived home from work barely an hour after leaving in the morning, ashen-faced and big-eyed, and said, "I've quit my job. I've left The Firm."

"You've what?" Ethan said in dismay. "You quit?"

"Yes. I just couldn't live with it any longer."

No more Brian The Shark? No more courtroom drama, scintillating argument, rush of sweet victory? That was it; Ethan could scarcely contain his disgust. "You're boring, Brian. And now you're unemployed and boring. Well, I've got news for you. I've met someone else and I'm moving in with him. His name is Chuck and he really understands me, so much more than you do."

"Ethan--" Brian looked as if he'd just been hit on the head with a hammer.

"I'm leaving," Ethan barked, unable to bear this a moment longer. "I'll come back for my stuff."

And Ethan grabbed his jacket with his wallet in the pocket, and his set of Matsuri knives from the kitchen, and left.

As he stepped out of the building and onto the sidewalk, Ethan felt the unaccustomed wetness of tears on his cheeks. He was sorry this had ended, he really was; but this wasn't the Brian he'd fallen in love with. Brian needed something Ethan not only couldn't give, but had no idea how to even try. Ethan knew he'd be better off elsewhere. Brian would be better off too, probably. Eventually.

He wiped his eyes, blew his nose, and hailed a cab. He didn't look back.

* * *

  
"No Chris?" Ethan asked, as Brian sat down on the couch opposite him.

Chris had not been happy about Brian going off to meet Ethan on his own, but an unexpected audit at the steakhouse had claimed his attention.

"He couldn't make it. So, it didn't work out with Nat the Rat," Brian said, thinking that it hadn't worked out with Chuck the Fuck either.

"No," Ethan confirmed, a note of sorrow in his voice. "He's got himself a new boyfriend. And a new head chef."

"The same person?" Brian couldn't help asking.

"No." Ethan gave a rueful grin. "That was a mistake. I should never have married him. I should have taken the job to run his kitchens, but resisted all his advances. I could have told him no, that I couldn't work for him _and_ get a civil union..."

The idea of Ethan resisting anyone's advances made Brian choke a little. "Uh, yeah. Guess mixing work and pleasure is difficult. I was sorry to hear you got divorced."

"But every cloud has a silver lining, right?" Ethan was bright. "I can afford to start my own restaurant now, just what I've always wanted! And I can afford to buy this apartment off you."

"Yeah." Brian looked around the living room, taking in the view, memories flitting around his head. "I'm a bit sorry to be selling it." He'd had his New York apartment for a long time. But it was the right thing to do. He knew Chris had always disliked him renting it out to Ethan, and now couldn't wait for him to sell it (provided he got a decent market price for it, of course), and cut ties with Ethan for good.

"Guess it means you've got nowhere to go if you split up with Chris," Ethan observed with surprising perspicacity. His eyes were soft and he leaned forward a little as if trying to empathize.

Brian was astonished enough to be temporarily silenced, and wondered if Ethan might have actually _learned_ something in the course of marriage to Nat over the last year. Ethan was quite right. Brian selling the apartment was a sign of commitment to Chris; getting rid of his possible bolt-hole, confirming that he was settled in Chris's house on the ocean for good.

Brian gulped a little, but when he spoke his tone was light. "Well, we've been together a few years now. Guess we must get on."

"You and Chris ever thought of tying the knot?" Ethan inquired.

Brian wasn't about to explain to Ethan why he didn't think that would ever happen. Because Brian wasn't the love of Chris's life. Umpteen years after Edward's death, Chris would still sometimes wake up feeling like he was cheating on Edward, get on his bike, and vanish for a couple of days. No, he wasn't going to explain this to Ethan. "We're fine just as we are."

"I suppose you wouldn't want him to soak you in a divorce," Ethan said thoughtfully.

Brian marveled at Ethan's worldview. Good thing Chris wasn't here to hear that; he'd be mortally offended.

"Actually, you've got that upside-down. I might soak him; he's just given me joint title to our house," Brian said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

"No shit!" Ethan looked genuinely impressed. "Well done! Where is your house anyway? I've never seen it."

There'd been no reason to. "It's on the Jersey shore. Chris had it custom-built years ago, it's got its own bit of beach, away from the road."

"A custom-built house on the beach." Ethan's eyes were fairly popping now. "Maybe I'll drop by and see you when I next feel the need for some ocean air."

The thought of Chris's reaction to that made Brian choke again.

END


End file.
